


The Moons And Their Suns

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Category: Batman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 07:31:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12164340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: Some call it meddling, others call it helping. Regardless, every Bat has a Super, whether they want one or not.





	The Moons And Their Suns

**Author's Note:**

> More trash. I just love the relationships of all the bats and supers and how the supers love them so much, waaaah.

Clark found him in the cave. Cowl off, but the rest of that terrible uniform on.

He wasn’t answering League pages. When called by others, Alfred answered, and claimed Bruce was dealing with a personal situation.

But Clark wasn’t one of the others.

So he didn’t call. Didn’t ask to come see him. Just waltzed into the cave like he was the Batman himself. And when he silently moved over to Bruce’s side, he wasn’t chastised, or snapped at. Bruce didn’t even raise his head from where it was hidden in his hands.

“…I have a son.” Bruce whispered after a moment. Clark raised his eyebrows in question, and a little bit of surprise. “A blood son. With Talia al Ghul.”

“…Oh.”

“His name is Damian. He’s nearly ten.” Bruce continued. Lifted his head, stared blankly ahead. “…Talia’s trained him since near birth in the way of the assassins. He’s ten, he’s a brat, and he’s _killed_. Multiple times.”

Clark waited.

“He’s ten, and she’s hurt him.” Bruce murmured, and his voice was pained. Strained beyond almost anything Clark had ever heard. “She’s forced him to do things no child should.”

Clark waited still.

“He’s ten, and I never even knew he existed.” Bruce sounded so sad. So sorrowful. It hurt Clark’s own heart, as Bruce ran his hand over his face one more time. “Clark…what do I do?”

“…Where is this child?” Clark asked.

“…I don’t know. Dead maybe. Probably not.” Bruce hummed. “Talia gave him an ultimatum. Me or her. He didn’t answer how she wanted, so she blew up the submarine we were on. I made it out. I never found either of them.”

“Then, step one: you find them.” Clark said, putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “You find them, and you get that boy to safety.”

Bruce didn’t answer. Just remained hunched in on himself.

“Bruce, you can’t blame yourself for this.” Clark tried. “This isn’t your fault.”

“I sired a child and left him in the hands of a demon.” Bruce countered bitterly. “How is it _not_?”

“Because you didn’t know. And you had no reason to look, or question.” Clark urged, squeezing Bruce’s shoulder. “Because if you had known, I know you would have fought tooth and nail for this boy. Just like you do for the others.”

Bruce took a deep, shuddering breath. Leaned back in his chair and looked up at Clark. He looked old and tired. Repeated: “What do I do, Clark?”

“You go find him. Bring him to Gotham. Bring him _home_.” Clark smiled. “And here – I’ll help you.”

“Clark, no.” Bruce tried, even as Clark moved towards the computer. “You don’t have to-”

“ _Want_ to.” Clark returned cheerfully. Smirked when Bruce stepped up beside him. “It’s what friends are for, Bruce.”

Bruce just stared at him. And if Clark didn’t know any better, he’d say the Batman looked _grateful_.

“Besides,” Clark teased. “You _totally_ already made me his godfather, right?”

Bruce frowned and rolled his eyes, turning towards the computer himself as Clark laughed.

~~

Dick chugged the whiskey as he heard the other approach. Slammed the glass down onto the bar as they sat next to him.

He sneered as he glanced over. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.” Kara hummed. “Got a call from Barbara. _And_ Steph.” A pause, and a small smile. “And little Tim.”

“Oh, for crying out loud.”

“Hey, it was either me or Tim.” Kara tried. “In fact, he’s waiting outside right now, with that mystery friend of yours, the Red Hood or whatever? The Red Hood is cranky and Tim is being protective of you. If we don’t hurry, there’s probably a good chance they’d kill each other in a public spectacle.” Then sarcastically: “And I’m sure that’s exactly the kind of news story Lois or Clark would want to cover.”

Dick took another swig. “And when the word got back to Bruce, I’m sure I’d still somehow be blamed.”

Kara waited, politely waved the bartender away when she stopped in front of them. “Dick, what’s wrong?”

“What _isn’t_ wrong?” He snapped, though the regret on his face immediately after was clear. “Bruce is never around, Jason’s back and _crazy_. Tim is getting distant and I just…I can’t _help_ anyone.”

“Who said it was your job to?” Kara asked incredulously.

“They’re my family. Even Jason.” Dick sighed. “I’m the oldest. It _is_ my job to.”

“I’m technically the oldest El on planet Earth, and that’s not how it is for Clark and I.” Kara countered.

“Not for lack of trying, though.” Dick murmured. “Your pod got knocked off course. Clark grew up in the meantime. It’s _different_.”

“Not that different.” Kara hummed.

“I just.” Dick huffed, held his face in his hands. “Everything is changing, and…I don’t know what to do.”

“Who said you had to do anything? Despite evidence, the members of your family can actually take care of themselves. I _promise_. Bruce, Tim…even Jason. If they needed you, they’d come to you. And even if they didn’t, you’d know when you had to intervene. You’re upset right now because you can’t help anyone…but that’s because you don’t _need_ to. You’re feeling lost because you’re so used to busying yourself helping others, that now that you’re not explicitly needed, you don’t know what to do. You don’t know how to help _yourself_.” Kara leaned towards him, put a hand on his shoulder. “…Dick, change is inevitable. You taught me that yourself.”

“Yeah, well. This change sucks.”

“So Bruce is busy now. And Jason is alive and…not the person you remember. And Tim is growing up. That’s not your fault. Nor is it your _problem_.” Kara reminded.

“…I guess.” Dick mumbled. “But it’s not just that.”

“No? Then what else?”

“The Titans…My friends…” He looked down into his glass. “I never see them. Sometimes I almost convince myself they don’t even exist anymore. Like we were never friends in the first place.”

Kara listened for a moment, then leaned her head back. “Oh. I get it now.”

Dick took a swig, glanced over at her. “Get what?”

“It’s not just stress at the idea that those you love are suffering and you can’t help.” Kara explained. “You’re _lonely_.”

Dick blinked, then stared back down into his drink. Pursed his lips, but didn’t respond.

“…Going out on your own and becoming Nightwing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, huh?” Kara smiled softly. She looked at Dick until the bartender passed by again. She held her hand up, and quietly placed an order. Jack and Coke, and she’d be paying for Dick’s next round.

Dick watched her, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?”

The beverage was placed in front of her. She thanked the tender, and took a long gulp.

“The easiest way to fix feeling lonely is to not be alone.” Kara hummed, eye twitching at the bitterness of the alcohol. She frowned a little then. “And…Dick, I know you and I aren’t the closest, but…mind if I stick around?”

Dick snorted. “Surely the Girl of Steel has a better place to be.”

“Absolutely not. Besides, I’d rather make sure you get home safe at the end of this night anyway.” Kara smiled. “So. Drink as much as you want, Mr. Grayson. Consider me your DD. Wingman. Wing-girl? Designated Wing-girl? Since I didn’t bring a car, and will be flying you home…”

Dick felt himself smirk. “And what about Tim and the Red Hood? Didn’t you say they were outside?”

“Oh, Conner forcibly picked them up twenty minutes ago.” Kara winked. “I was just hoping to use them as an excuse to get you moving. But now that we’re staying…”

Dick couldn’t help his bark of laughter. Let it fade into a sigh. He looked over at Kara – she just kept smiling sympathetically at him – and carefully put his hand over hers.

“Thank you, Kara.”

Kara blushed, just a little, then held up her glass, as if in mock-toast.

“It’s what I’m here for.”

~~

The landing wasn’t subtle. The ground shook, and Jason knew if he turned around, there’d probably be a crater in the yard.

Well, it was Bruce’s yard so he hoped there was. Served the old man right.

“Red…?” Was hummed awkwardly. Jason sighed.

“Go back to Artemis, Bizarro.” Jason drawled. “I’m fine.”

But, of course, Bizarro didn’t listen. Instead came up to Jason’s side, staring first at the ground where Jason was looking, then up to Jason himself.

“No you not.”

“It’s not a big deal.” Jason tried instead. “It’s okay, nothing for you to worry about.”

He could feel Bizarro still staring.

“Lying.” Bizarro decided. “Red Him, why lying?”

“Because it’s none of your business.” Jason snapped, though he didn’t mean to. “Now go away.”

“It is.” Bizarro pushed. “Is my business. _You_ my business.”

Jason didn’t respond. Just kept staring at the ground. At the gravestone rotting there.

At _his_ gravestone, rotting there.

“Red Him my business.” Bizarro hummed. “Me love Red Him.”

Jason sniffed, tried to look away. But suddenly, arms were wrapping around his, trapping him against a chest. A tight embrace that lifted him off the ground, full of a lot  of emotions that Jason forgot he’d been deprived of until right now.

“Is okay.” Bizarro murmured, rocking Jason back and forth as he leaned his face between Jason’s shoulder blades. “Red Him okay.”

Jason sniffed again, and this time felt a tear run down his face.

“No cry, Red.” Bizarro soothed. “No cry. Me and Red go home, ‘kay?”

Jason didn’t have a choice. Bizarro never put him down, just jumped into the sky, creating another crater, flying in zagged lines back to their base.

“We go home.”

~~

Tim sensed him before he saw him. Kept his arm across his eyes, even as his immediate thought was:

“Go away, Conner.”

There was a snort from the windowsill. “Why?”

“I’d rather you not see me like this.”

“Dude, I’ve seen you in worse states.” The pleasant voice changed though, to one of concern. “What’s wrong?”

Tim listened as Conner stepped through the window, silently picked up some of the mess that was littered across the floor. He frankly couldn’t remember the last time he’d tried to clean his apartment. The last time he was motivated to, or even home to actually do it. “…What isn’t?”

“Tim.” Conner sighed, sounding like a parent. “I got used to your angst-induced sass years ago. And you know I’m not leaving until you actually tell me, so. You might as well just get it over with.”

Tim waited another minute, listened as Conner disappeared further into the home and came back with a trash bag. “…Damian’s a good freaking person and everything’s ruined.”

“Oh?”

“And I’d laugh, if everything wasn’t in shambles because of it.” Slowly, Tim dropped his arm away from his eyes. Spread his arms like a bird. “…He was the glue that held our family together, did you know that?”

The crinkle of a bag, the sound of a bottle being dropped into it. “No. I thought you said that was Dick, honestly. Or Bruce himself.”

“I thought they were too. Objectively, they _should_ be.” Tim grumbled. “But no, see? Apparently, it’s that brat. And it pisses me off.”

“Knowing you, you have evidence of this new status for your brother.” Conner said slowly. Tim heard something being put on a shelf. Kept his eyes on the ceiling. “Mind sharing it? Because frankly, I still don’t see it.”

“It’s not _new_ , I’ve just only recently _realized_ it.”  Tim snapped. Conner didn’t react. “…When he was dead, the whole family was absolutely lost. Bruce and Dick especially. But so was Jason. So was Cass. …So was I.”

“Wow.”

“And at first I just chocked it up to the fact that I’ve lost so much already. That he was just another in a long line of people who associated with me and ended up dead.” Tim rambled. “But then he came back, and everything was better. Not perfect, but…better. Coming home didn’t hurt as much.”

“Mhm.”

“And then.” Tim hissed. “Then that garbage with the Court of Owls, and with Dick. He’s barely older than an infant-”

“That’s not true.”

“-And there he goes, willingly sacrificing himself to one of the most _dangerous organizations in the entire world_. Just because he loves Dick, and would rather _himself_ be tortured than someone in this stupid family.”

“…Someone in this stupid family.” Conner repeated slowly. “Doesn’t that include you?”

 _“That’s exactly my point.”_ Tim whined. “Because yeah, at first, I thought – it was just for Dick. But the more I thought about it, and the more I went over the evidence, I realized he’d done it for me and Jason too. Like how _stupid_ is that.”

“…Tim…”

“And I cared, okay?!” Tim almost shouted, finally sitting up and looking at his friend. Half his room was spotless now, reorganized into a sense of order. “When I realized what he’d done for Dick – what he’d done for all of us – it sucked. It downright _hurt_. I couldn’t sleep for a week because of it.”

“You’re mad you love your brother.” Conner surmised, a small smile on his lips. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

“How dare him!” Tim yelled, flopping dramatically back down. “How dare that little shit make me love him, and care about him, and worry about him when he runs stupidily headfirst into danger!”

“Well, I mean. I think it’s only fair.” Conner offered. “Since it kind of sounds like he cared about you first, and for a long while.”

“That just makes it _worse_.”

Conner snorted. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Shut up.” Tim sighed, closing his eyes. “…Thanks for listening.”

There was another swish of the bag, and then the mattress dipped as Conner sat next to him. “It’s what I’m here for. Want me to mention to Jon so he can subtly tell Damian?”

Tim snorted, smirking as he turned his head towards Conner. “Absolutely not.”

Conner returned the smirk. “Wimp.”

“Jerk.” Tim countered playfully. “Pizza?”

Conner groaned, practically floating off the bed. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Tim sniggered as he rolled off the bed. “And you had the gall to call _me_ dramatic.”

“Hey.” Conner shrugged, coming up behind him and throwing his arm around Tim’s shoulders. Gave him a wink. “I learn from the best.”

And Tim didn’t answer beyond a light chuckle, but Conner felt his shoulders sag in relief, in a semblance of relaxation, and chalked that up to a victory.

~~

Bruce was in a panic. Dick too. Even Tim was worried, and that was almost a shock. But only almost.

No one could find Damian.

Well, almost no one.

Jon just walked through the cave, Titus and Alfred the cat at his sides. Past the high-tech hub, beyond the winding road and vehicle tracks. To a darker, and entirely unused part of the cave.

And he hadn’t known what to make of it at the time, when after a mission, Damian pulled himself and Maya aside and gave them very specific coordinates of the cave. Just said to remember them, that they might be important one day, if they wanted them to be.

He hadn’t realized then. Maybe Maya did, but he didn’t. Didn’t realize that Damian was giving him the location of his secret hideaway. A place where he felt safe, a place he went when it was all too much.

A place he could be found, when he needed to be. A place only his most trusted partners were allowed to know about.

And not even Dick Grayson knew.

But he did. Jon Kent did.

So he kept Damian’s confidence. Gave him a few hours to calm down or keep to himself or be alone – whatever he needed. Then grabbed a flashlight and his friend’s pets, and entered the cave, following the near nonexistent trail left by their wayward Robin.

He found him by his heartbeat. By Titus starting to whine and Alfred meowing gently, almost calling for their boy. Raised the flashlight and saw a splash of gold from his cape spilling over an otherwise dark ledge.

“Damian?”

“I shouldn’t be here.” Damian returned. His voice was rough and dry. “I need to go home.”

“You _are_ home.” Jon offered.

“Back to my mother.” Damian reworded. “I don’t belong here.”

Titus whined sadly, as Jon moved forward, carefully began floating towards Damian’s perch. “Says who?”

“Says me. I…I can’t do anything right. The Titans don’t accept me. Half of my family hates me. The League and everyone thinks I’m a _joke_.” Damian listed off. When Jon could finally see him properly, he saw he was curled in on himself. Knees to chest, head bowed, ungloved nails chipped and bloody from his climb, digging into his shins. “But I guess they’re all right to think that. I was too stubborn to see it before, but now…”

Jon landed in front of him. Slowly lowered to his knees. “Now?”

“Now I see it too. See what everyone else has all along.” And Damian almost sounded guilty. “I’m too _damaged_.”

Jon jerked back at the declaration, felt his own heart break, just a little bit.

“I’m ruled by my own weaknesses. My emotions cloud my judgments. My past distracts me from the present. I push people away with my attitude, even when I try not to.” Damian continued, his voice becoming tighter. Jon now noticed the tear trails on his face, and realized he was about to cry again. Damian must have realized it too, as he suddenly shifted, hid his face in his hands. “Grayson never let this happen. Todd does, but he can adapt enough to still be useful. Drake has the skills to hide it, and a support system to assist. The Batgirls have each other. And now I’ve been replaced by Duke Thomas, and rightfully so.”

“Damian…”

“I’m a _burden_. To this family, to this city, to everyone.” Damian hunched, a watery inhale wracking his frame. “So I should just save everyone the misery and _leave_.”

And Jon couldn’t hear anymore. Felt tears welling up in his own eyes that his friend could ever think such a thing about himself. So did the only thing he could think of – cut Damian’s next thought off by lurching forward and wrapping Damian in a hug.

“Wha…” Damian breathed, then began to squirm, pushing at Jon’s chest. “Get off!”

“No.” Jon said forcefully, holding on tighter. “Because you are _not_ damaged. You are _not_ a burden. You are _loved_ and I need you to _know_ that.”

“Yeah?” Damian snorted bitterly. “By whom?”

“Me. Your dad. Dick. Your siblings. Your pets. Goliath. Maya.” Jon listed off. “ _Everyone_ , practically.”

“Everyone.” Damian deadpanned, still fighting, but less so now. Didn’t struggle when Jon leaned back onto his ankles, and dragged Damian with him. “If that’s true, then where is everyone? No one came after me. I’m sure no one even notices I’m gone.”

“I did.” Jon countered softly. Then chuckled, just a little. “And are you kidding me? Your dad is freaking out. Dick is making Tim hack the League computers to use their radars and tech. Jason took Cassandra and Stephanie to Arkham and the prisons to interrogate those they think might hurt you.”

Damian didn’t say anything.

“…You came to the one place you _knew_ they couldn’t find you, to prove that lie to yourself.” Jon whispered, glancing over his shoulder when he heard Titus whine again, and scratch at the rock. “But it’s not true, okay? You _are_ wanted. You _are_ loved.”

Damian didn’t respond still, but Jon felt him relax a little, lean his face against Jon’s chest.

“So, do you mind if I sit with you?” Jon asked. “Until you’re feeling better?”

“…If you want.” Damian murmured tiredly.

“Well, I do.” Jon returned cheerfully. Gently, though, he shifted Damian in his grip, and reached for Robin’s turned off communicator. Flipped it on and held it to his own ear. Listed for a second, as the family rambled on the line, giving locations and updates and disappointed reports of not finding anything. He cleared his throat, and hummed, “Batman?”

All voices on the line ceased. “I know Robin gave you a communicator, Superboy, but now is not the time to use it for-”

“I found him, Batman. He’s okay.” Jon pushed. Immediately there were demands of where, and injuries, and status. “I’ll bring him back when he’s ready, I just called to say you can all go home!”

Immediately, he shut the communicator off, hoping he did so before anyone could track them. Dropped it onto the stone, then wrapped both arms around Damian once more.

And for a moment, there was silence. Then: “…Thank you, Jonathan.”

Jon just smiled. “It’s what friends are for, Damian.”

~~

“…You know?” Stephanie hummed thoughtfully. She tilted her head and watched the yard in front of them.

Lois glanced first at Cassandra – who shrugged – then at Steph, raising her drink to her lips. “Hm?”

“Have I ever mentioned how lost _these_ losers would be without _your_ losers?”

Lois blinked, and looked across the yard herself. Bruce and Clark at the grill, Conner and Tim sitting under the tree, Kara and Dick gleefully watching Jason and Artemis with Bizzaro, and Jon and Damian with their dogs. All of the members of the Batfamily were either smiling or looked more relaxed than they had in ages.

“Steph,” Lois laughed, looking at the other girl and patting her hand. “You’ve never had to.”


End file.
